Peter ostroushko obituary: No one at Minneapolis’ St. Joan of Arc Catholic Church was very prepared for artist Peter Ostroushko to talk at his own pledge drive after he’d endured a stroke. Not prepared for the humor. The genuineness. The glow. The beauty. The motivation.

Situated in a wheelchair, the virtuoso Minneapolis mandolinist/fiddler clarified that the stroke had left his left arm futile. “I can’t play an instrument,” he brought up. “My voice is undermined from the stroke.” Just at that point church ringers rang. “Hi?” Ostroushko reacted. Everybody in the flood swarm grinned.

During his 20-minute advertisement libbed discourse, the performer, one of Minnesota’s best in any class, perceived his circumstance, yet his brain was as sharp as could be expected. “I need to disperse a legend,” he said. “I got a call from somebody who left a message on the telephone that they wouldn’t make it to my last show. I’m not playing. This can’t in any way, shape or form be my last show.”

Ostroushko, who worked with craftsmen going from Bob Dylan to the Minnesota Orchestra, kicked the bucket Wednesday evening of cardiovascular breakdown. He was 67.

“We have never known a superior person,” his little girl, Anna Ostroushko, posted on Facebook. “Kindly tune in to or play some music around evening time in his honor.”

Post Keillor, who depended on Ostroushko’s wide scope of musicality for in excess of 250 scenes of his public broadcast “A Prairie Home Companion,” said Lake Wobegon “lost a dear family companion